


The Long Island of Killers

by saiyukichan1



Category: Blue Bloods (TV)
Genre: F/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-03-21
Updated: 2017-03-21
Packaged: 2018-10-08 21:30:28
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Major Character Death, Rape/Non-Con
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,237
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/10396581
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/saiyukichan1/pseuds/saiyukichan1
Summary: Certain aspects of this particular crime scene seem familiar, like he's seen or read about it before. But when the killer himself walks into Danny's precinct claiming to know Wilder, Danny becomes uneasy.





	

**Author's Note:**

> Okay so this is a first with character death. Well second but it's a main character not one I made up from the top of my head. Let me know if something isn't correct.

The wind why is it always blistering cold? But then again it comes with the time of the year. I hate being out in this type of weather, but alas my job has called me to be. My partner, Maria Baez, is huddling against the coffee cart as I walk up to her. Two steaming cups of Joe cradled in her hands. I accept the one she offers gratefully, the amber liquid blessed warmth in the New York winter. 

“What are you pondering over there?”

“Nothing to worry about.”

“Is it what happened? Still gets to you doesn’t it?”

I stare off down the street, wanting to answer but can’t bring myself to tell her the details of my kidnapping. So she stands there by me, close but not intruding on my space. She’s careful to notice if my mood shifts for the worse. It happens to so that these last few months. We both wait patiently in the car for a call of some sort. We didn’t have to wait long seeing the call was of found body parts. 

This is different from our norm. Though I do have to say, this seems familiar. Not that I myself have dealt with it personally but I’ve read about it. My attention immediately gets drawn back from my thoughts to Baez trying not to heave as we get out of the car and closer to the crime scene. That’s a first, even for us. This appearance of body parts perplexed me. They’ve never shown up this far before. 

“Has any full skeletons been uncovered?”

“None so far, Seems to have the same cutting marks around the wrists and ankles though.”

“So a pattern; is that what you’re telling me?”

A pelvic bone get’s uncovered next, fully intact. By their diagnoses its female, couldn’t give me more until they get back to the lab. This situation probably has something to do with the prostitution rings that run through New York City. That I wouldn’t doubt. Just like the human trafficking and drugs. Just recently I and my partner uncovered one such ring that specialized in both. More like drugging their victims unknowingly and shanghaiing them once the drug is safely in their system. 

It’s a whole different can of worms here. Almost like a killer. But my question is which killer? My thoughts are on what type of killer when the hairs at the nape of my neck stand up. You know when you’re being watched you get this weird sensation and everything goes into overdrive. Yeah it’s that type of feeling. I try not to be as obvious in my discomfort as I slowly survey the crime scene. No one looked out of place, but there on the ridge line there is a retreating figure. Odd. Whoever it is would be long gone before I can even reach the top of the ridge. Baez looks at me from her position, confusion and worry on her face. 

The feeling of being watched hadn’t left yet even after the guys had roped and cleaned the area. She instantly turns on me once we were seated in the car with the heat turned up full blast. 

“Something about this whole thing doesn’t feel right.”

“Like we were being watched sort of thing, yeah I got that feeling too. Let’s head back; we’ll see what we can figure out from there.”

“I guess…”

Still couldn’t shake the feeling though. Even in the precinct with so many cops and civilians alike as witnesses if something were to go down. I shrug off my coat and hang it on the back of my chair like normal, dread knots my stomach at the research of missing people. 

Every year people go missing. It is a rarity that they are found. They only seem to turn up when their kidnappers start getting sloppy. So many files, my eyes start to sting from looking at my screen for too long. Leaning back gazing at the screen I hadn’t noticed that I had fallen asleep at my desk. Startled awake by a paper wad Baez glares at me.

“What?! What was that for?”

“Danny be honest. Are you even sleeping at home?”

I refuse to answer her question, which in Baez language is a big “NO.” Maria shakes her head in disapproval but relents to not press the issue. I get her point and move to stand. Damn it Baez that’s the same pleading look Linda gives me to talk to her if an issue is bothering me. Women; can’t leave well enough alone. I almost walk out then remember my coat. Everything is on automatic, lately I don’t think I’ve even been paying attention to where I’m going. No time at all I reach my front door. Standing there I stare at it, contemplating to go inside or not. My hand hovers on the knob. 

The house is empty. Linda has a double shift both boys have football then going to friends for the night. So that leaves just me until six or seven in the morning. Leftovers are in the fridge; courtesy of Linda so I pull them out to be reheated. The turn table starts in the microwave. I zone out and let my mind wander. Phantom touches trace my scars, moving ever downward. Coming out it like I was in a trance I gasp trying to shake the feeling. All appetite forgotten, I plop onto the couch. Not much time after that I begin to doze. Soon sleep claimed me altogether. Fit full, a term one can use when describing my sleep patterns these days. Either I’m waking up screaming or crying. I let out a deep rattling sigh after waking up from this rounds nightmare. 

Maybe heading back and working on this missing person’s case can clear my head. Baez has gone home. Hopefully having a fresher outlook on the case when she comes back in the morning. The hubbub on the floor isn’t even registering today. Until that intense feeling invaded my gut. Just like it did the other day at the crime scene. Quickly glancing around nothing triggered my fight response. 

“Are you Danny Reagan?”

I turn around slowly at the reedy voice. It belongs to a plainly dressed man, around forties to fifty years old, thin and wiry, deep blue eyes, with gaunt facial features. A needling in the back of my mind is screaming at me to not trust him, to not let him in. 

“Yes, who’s asking?”

I point out, the more information the better. He almost seems relieved that he found me on the first try. He motions towards the chair by my desk. I nod, he pulls the chair closer. Instantly my hackles rise at his presence so close to mine. 

“You know I had to come see for myself what the hullabaloo was about. He constantly talked about you, this New York City detective. The one person who was able to think like him. The one who could get under his skin.”

“Excuse me?”

“Oh you know exactly who I’m referring to. I do have to admit though I’m sad to see him go. His correspondence will be missed greatly.”

It hit me then like a ton of bricks falling from a truck. This guy, this random guy knew Wilder. He moves to pat my hand on my desk, lightening quick so I have no time to draw back. He barely shakes his head as I digest the new information. I swallow quickly to rid myself of the thick lump that is forming in my throat. 

“I’ll see you again Mr. Reagan maybe sooner than expected.”

He stood quietly, released my hand, and left without incident. Confused, I lean back and stare after him. His words began running the track in my mind. His correspondence will be missed? Is he trying to say they kept in contact with each other? For what reason? At this point in time I didn’t know I had a killer sitting next to me in the precinct. It didn’t occur to me until the next body showed up in my back yard. Suddenly the statistics from another county, Suffolk County, started matching up. They call him the Long Island Killer. So far he’s still out there and with a growing body count. 

Baez eventually works her way back into the office looking like sleep still has her in its clutches. I raise an eyebrow in her direction but all she does is give me the bird. Indignant, I hold up the cup of coffee for her anyway. 

“Found anything we can use?”

“There was another body uncovered. Same as the others… and there was a guy who came in just before you got here. Said that he “corresponded,” who uses that term any more, with Wilder of all people. And that we’ll meet again sooner rather than later.”

“Did he do anything out of the ordinary?”

“Besides patting my hand, no nothing else.”

She almost couldn’t hold back the snigger of laughter at the last statement. How is it that I get all the weirdos around here? 

It wasn’t until later in the day that we found out. The bodies that we found earlier are those of prostitutes. All of them female and between a certain age, so it’s at the point that we try and find the best way to lure out the perp. Time to get to work. After a few nights of Baez dressing the part it was getting harder to tell what exactly his tastes are. Finally after the fourth night we get a hit. To my surprise it’s the acquaintance of Wilder’s that came after her. I stand back and away from the scene as to not draw suspicion from the perp. 

I keep close enough to watch as the man tries to get a lower rate out of Baez. She gives in finally after him haggling her for five minutes. Leading her to a red car, he helps her inside quickly then drives off. Keeping a safe distance behind them, I try and follow them as best I could. Taking her some distance out of the city, we end up out in the middle of an abandoned farm. Just the perfect places to do anything, no one will here you scream. Out of the night came a neatly kept shack, to put it mildly. I turned off the headlights about half a mile back, so navigating is a little difficult. 

My stomach begins to knot as he starts to lead Baez into the house. I try so hard not to just rush in there. He at least has to have the illusion that they are alone otherwise this case is a bust. My cop’s reasoning kicks in battling with my inner self; he has to have time to do something to convict himself. The crash itself can be heard even from outside. Okay that is my cue to go in. She puts up a fight by the sounds of his cursing. By the time I get inside he already has her downstairs. Going through the motions I check every room to make sure the guy isn’t hiding in one of them. That intense feeling that I am beginning to associate with this killer returns, semi alerting me to his presence. 

Okay so he’s here with me but I’m not sure where. Miss stepping the floor creaks loudly under my shoe. Damn it! Finding the basement stairs, I feel around blindly for a light switch. Great there isn’t one. What sense does that make? Stupidly I go down the dark stairs with no inkling of what’s down there waiting for me. 

“Baez?”

I call out, but not so loud as to alert the killer. A muffled noise comes from the direction to my left. Heading in that direction, a barely visible blob comes out of the shadows and tackles me to the ground. We both hit the ground hard. He tries to wrestle my gun out of my hand. Taking a hold of the lapels of my jacket he slams my head onto the floor. 

I start to see bright floaters then. The killer effectively disarms me, tossing my gun to the side and out of my current reach. Attempting it anyway he takes my distraction to wrap thin fingers around my throat. Quickly bringing my attention back to him, he grins exposing perfectly white teeth. A look of madness glows behind the blue depths of his eyes matching his toothy grin. I can feel it, my consciousness slipping. Black begins to encroach on the sides of my vision next I know I black out. 

I’m not entirely sure what woke me up at this point but it could have been the coldness of metal at my back. He took the time to remove my coat and my shirt. I glare at the bed that is placed before me. There at the head of it is Baez, her arms stretched above her. She’s fighting fiercely to get the stringy man off of her. He stops to look over the Cheshire grin back on his face. 

“I see that our detective is awake. Shall we see how he is feeling?”

In one fluid motion he slides off the bed to land in front of me. I back my head into the support beam as he leans in close to my face. Inhaling sharply at the inquisitive touch to my side, the killer actually stops. Curiosity burns bright in his blue depths. This guy shouldn’t even make me nervous but he is; which in turn means he’s even more dangerous than expected, but any person can be dangerous given the right motivation.

For the time being his attention is on me and not Baez. He runs surprisingly gentle fingers across my stomach to meet the two long scars on my sides running to my hips. After reaching them a bruising grip pulls my hips slightly forward. 

“Not on the first date, asshole.”

He just makes a tutting noise in the back of his throat at the comment. His fingers swipe across my stomach again bringing chills to my skin. 

“I must inquire as to how you came across such exquisite work detective. They are… done with such care. Such precision more to cause pain not maim.”

“Glad you appreciate it because the asshole that did do it is rotting in prison now.”

“Tsk tsk detective one is allowed to admire the craftsmanship that another has done on a canvas as nice as you.”

“Go fuck yourself.”

Why the fuck is he more curious about my scars than Baez who is lying on his bed right now? Realizing he’s not going to get me to tell him more about the people who did it he stands and walks over to the bed. Leaning over her he inhales her scent causing her to whine in fear. Up her shirt he feels along her ribs to her breasts. She tries to wiggle away from his questing hands. No success there. 

“Keep your hands off her. If you must satisfy your needs, use me. Leave her out of this.”

“So valiant you are. I’ve never done to a male what I do to a female. May…be interesting, I think.”

The man kisses her fiercely then. It turns my gut to know that she is the object of his desires right now. I struggle against the ropes binding me to the beam. I try to keep talking to get him to stop his ministrations on Baez. At some point I know I am beginning to annoy him because he comes over and hits me straight in the jaw. Ouch. The bastard split my lip.

“I wasn’t planning on doing anything to you detective but since you are being so insistent. You’re giving me no choice.”

The other man wraps one hand behind my head gripping thin fingers in the hair at the nape of my neck while landing a solid knee to my solar plexus. I double over with the effort to breathe. He pulls roughly at my hair to look him straight in the eye.

“Don’t tempt my patience officer; I may not want to keep you alive.”

Releasing my head I struggle to breathe. Pain lacerates my diaphragm with every breath. This time cupping my chin and lifting my gaze his eyes were tormented with curiosity. Slowly I lean back against the pole and away from his reach. Walking into reach the killer leans in again inhaling deeply. I can literally feel the puffs of his breath on my neck. One lick to my jaw, a touch to my inner thigh, the press of a body my nerves getting the better of me. 

His hands move to the button on my jeans, deftly unfastening them. Teeth pierce my flesh as he runs his hands down the inside of my thighs. He produces a delighted sound when he discovers the scars on them as well. Lapping at the bruise now forming on my neck the man stops as I go rigid at his actions. 

“They really did a number on you detective. What have you done to piss them off?”

“I’m not telling you shit.”

“This just makes me sad that it wasn’t me who got to make the first marks on your sinful skin.”

I close my eyes so I don’t give away anything else by a simple look of torment. His warmth leaves instantly. Opening my eyes to see where he has gone, I wish I didn’t. The dangerous swagger that I now associate with him replaces the slightly timid one from earlier once he reaches the bed again. He runs his hand up her thigh, pushing her skirt away for better access. She screams behind her gag then breaks down into broken sobs as he forces her legs apart to reveal the sensitive part of her. 

Mother fucker! Get away from her! I can’t help but look away as he buries his fingers deep inside her, her sobs wrenching my heart out of my chest. Those sobs the ones breaking me because I can’t help her. Just this whole situation renews my struggles to get out of the ropes holding me to the pole. What seemed like hours of him touching and penetrating her she falls silent. My stomach knots horribly when I barely see her chest rise and fall with her breathing. 

“Baez? Maria…come on answer me. Maria, oh for the love of god… Baez!”

The bastard comes back into view then, wiping his hands on a stark white towel. My eyes widen as he so boldly kisses my lips. Pulling back far enough to survey my expression his turns dangerous as I head butt him. A low growling comes from his throat then. I may have worn out my welcome with that move. Instead he grabs my throat and attacks my neck and clavicle with harsh bites; few of those bites actually breaking skin. 

You know when they say that someone has that “O” face when in the throes of ecstasy, well he kind of succeeded in doing just that. Multiple licks and nips to my ribs and hips left me panting. So not wanting this kind of attention either. I curse my body in its reaction to his. The killer has the gall to actually laugh at me.

“Did you know you have exquisite skin? I can see why they wanted to mark you now. Nothing this sinful should be this beautiful. Absolutely divine.”

Now I’m not entirely sure as to why he released me, but I stumble forward. What the hell? Taking the opportunity given to me, I lash out at the man. I manage to get three solid hits in before my luck runs out. The next hit he catches pinning my wrist under his arm and applying an upward pressure to my elbow. Never struck me as the type to know Jujitsu. I flinch visibly at the pain shooting up my arm. He let’s go immediately after my knee connects to his side. 

After five minutes of trading hits he seemed to be getting rather impatient with the fight. So to remedy his boredom he gets the drop on me by pinning me face first to the wall. 

“Now I have some questions that I want answered. Answer them and I will try not to maim you too bad.”

“If I do, you have to leave her alone.”

“Mmm depends on how honest you are with me. Though I cannot guarantee to leave her be.”

I push against him looking for some type of give to his stance. None what so ever. He catches my wrists and flattens my hands against the wall too while pushing his body weight against me. Fingering the half formed scars on my wrists it only made me not want to answer his question when it finally came.

“It is clear to me that you know how to defend yourself and others if necessary. So the question that begs to be asked is: how did they get the drop on you to carve you up like they did?”

I must have hesitated in my answer because he raises his knee slightly to my groin. Also leaning in closer his tongue traces the outer casing of my ear. 

“Drugs… it was a new strain of drugs.”

“So they incapacitated you for them to even have a chance at you. Interesting, may I ask what kind?”

“Wh-what?”

“What kind?”

“Date rape.”

Huffing he releases me. Something isn’t right here. My senses go into over drive at his actions. The killer backs away from me then. Have to admit I’m totally thrown off my game with this guy. I eye him wearily as I turn around to face him. He stood facing me with his hands palm up facing me by his sides. What?

“I have no intention of taking you out when your hands are tied.”

“You don’t seem to share that same sentiment for women.”

“Heh, women are fragile fickle creatures. They need to be put into place in a man’s world. Plus they don’t fight back as hard as a man. I do have to admit though you have brought out the competitive side in me.”

I cock my head to the side at his revelation. Why is he now interested in telling me what he thinks? Not wanting to get pinned to the wall again, I slowly make my way to the bed where my partner lay. 

The bastard just shakes his head with the Cheshire grin tugging at his lips. It’s like he knows what I’m trying to do. Yeah trying my damndest to get both of us out of here alive that’s what. During one of those hits to his side I heard keys shift from the impact. So I at least know the cuff key is on him… I hope. Another close encounter is in order to get the keys. I just hope my pick pocketing skills are as good as I think they are. Leaning over the headboard, I purposely leave myself open. The killer digs his fingers into my shoulders and pulls me back.

“Don’t you think I know what you’re trying to do? It’s not going to be that easy detective.”

Didn’t say it was. He tosses me back a couple feet. Sliding across the floor I grumble at the failed attempt to pick his pocket. Okay let’s try this again. I slowly get up, my back aching at the rough treatment from the floor. Not thinking of anything else that would be effective, I bum rush him. The reedy man grunts upon impact but is able to toss me into the head board. With my back hitting it, I groan out as I slump to the floor with more pain racking my body. Grinning though, I hold up the keys in triumph. A roar of rage tears from his throat. 

Um okay now would be a great time to get up and get her uncuffed. At this point I don’t think he cares that I have the keys. He hits me so hard I start to see stars the second time he actually gets me to the floor, nice and personal. Third time is the charm. Lights out again for me. 

Once awake I fear what has happened since he knocked me out. I grab the top of the head board with an attempt to pull my aching body off the floor. Kneeling with my arms over the board, I shakily reach out to nudge her. She didn’t even move when I touched her shoulder. No flinch, nothing. 

“Baez? Please answer me…”

I force myself to stand to walk around the bed to see her fully. Numbness spread like wildfire through my veins. Her unseeing eyes stared at me accusingly. Gently closing her lifeless eyes, a heartfelt sob chokes me. 

“I’ll be back for you, I promise. I won’t leave you in the dark.”

Oddly the house is silent. Not even a creak whispered in the coming dawn. Completely hypersensitive to every noise, I stop and pause as the house settles. Last I looked the house was clear, but it may be a good idea to check them again. Methodically going through every room I come back to the kitchen. How did I miss the staircase by the fridge? I slowly make my way to the refrigerator when I get bum rushed. He runs us into the table sitting in the corner by the stair case, it collapsing under the abuse. I wriggle my way out from under him to try and get away. I manage to make it out of his reach. 

Clearly amused by me now the killer saunters over to one of the drawers and reveals a long serrated cutting knife, great he wants to use that… on me. He lunges at me, not slicing me but pretty damn close. I think he wants to play cat and mouse. I start to slide along the rubble of the table, keeping an eye on him. I see an opening and pounce on it. Barreling into the hall he’s right on my heels. 

“Not so fast little mouse, the cat wants to play.”

Darting further down the hall and as far as I can go away from him, the beating of my heart made it hard to focus on the noise of the house. A good indicator of where the other man is at. My breaths are coming in sharp gasps as I slow down to a hall on the other side of the house. 

Surely he can’t be right behind me. To my surprise he bursts out a door, successfully burying the blade in my shoulder. I scream in agony as it successfully brings me down. The killer straddles my hips to get better leverage. Holding the weapon by the blade, I try and pull it out as he’s using everything to push it further into my flesh. 

“Come now detective you’re making this no fun. Say, let’s play a game.”

He twists the blade making me bite back hard on a scream. The pain from the blade makes me want to squirm. 

“Fu-“

“Ah ah no need for such vulgar language from the mouse. So, interested in that game?”

I shake my head furiously. Ah hell no I am not playing any games with this guy. He flashes his signature grin, but points up the stairwell hidden behind a partially closed door. How the hell did I miss that too? 

“Your badges, phones, and weapons are up there. If you can make it there before I kill you, you can leave without me trying to stop you.”

“H-how can I trust you?”

“You can’t.”

He says it so frankly that I have no choice but to believe him. The man sits back on my hips waiting for me to make the first move. Honestly I just feel weak from his beating and now being stabbed. The long island killer twists the blade again, this time not stopping until I scream in anguish. With one final twist to the blade he pulls it out with a slick sucking noise. Panting the killer slides off of me with a catlike grace and seems to disappear into the shadowed walls. What the hell? 

Taking that as a cue to get up and run, I slowly push myself up but get a vicious kick to the ribs making it harder to move. Okay so he wants to play cat and mouse yet he isn’t letting me up. Somehow managing the next attempt at injury I back myself into the wall. 

“Care to give a guy a fair chance here?”

“Why should I? You seem adept enough to do it even if you are injured.”

He seems to know me so well. I do have a knack for staying alive, even if the situation looks dire. He’s at least giving me enough time to get up and get out of here, the hallway that is. It’s hard enough to be quiet when you’re in pain and trying to make it out of a killer’s reach. My breathing is becoming labored from pain and some blood loss. 

Circles I’ve been running in circles. With my battered body I manage to make it back to the kitchen with the staircase. Oh sure Reagan make it easy for the psychopath to follow your every move. Mentally face-palming I stare at the blood smears down the hall wall from my shoulder. Throwing open the door to the stairs I rush up them. Well, try to rush up them anyway. Face plant. There is this instant searing pain across my hip crossing the already existing scar. Really? I kick the monster off me scrambling up the stairs. Bleeding profusely I look around the room to try and find something to staunch the flow. Upon my search I find what I am looking for and my service weapon.

“I’ve finally corned you, mouse. Have you made your peace?”

“The only peace I need is that I wasn’t able to save her from you, but I can rectify that by killing you.”

He lunges forward, knife held high above his head. One, two shots before he fell. Even then he still grins wide pulling himself along with his legs and the one arm. Oh my lord would you die already! Watching him get up, I back up my knees hitting the bed. Closer, closer, why am I hesitating? 

“Heh you hesitate mouse. You must want me to end your life just as I ended hers. Maybe to put you out of your misery of having to remember her.”

“Fuck you.”

The last and final shot rings out in the thick silence. A hole straight through the head. I slump down on the bed. Once my weapon is on the bed I scrub my face with my hands, blood streaking down my cheeks. I jump when my cell rings. It’s Linda’s ringtone.

“Danny, what time are you coming home?”

“I’ll be there as soon as I can.”

The line goes dead. I need a bus.

“911.”

“Hello this is officer Reagan and I need a bus at 54434 Prairie drive. I have a female whose been murdered.”


End file.
